


Injustice Collector

by LittleSweetCheeks



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen, Major character death - Freeform, Midsummer Murder Challenge, Unsub!Spencer, canon type violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 14:23:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11419836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSweetCheeks/pseuds/LittleSweetCheeks
Summary: He was okay, until he wasn't. Then he needed revenge.





	1. William

**Author's Note:**

> This is a response to a Midsummer Murders Challenge.
> 
> Please head warnings.

He tucked his hair, straight again, behind his ear. It seemed appropriate somehow to go back to how he looked in the beginning, when he stepped away from one life course and into another. Collecting his backpack from the ground by his feet, he shuffled up to the door of the tiny house and let himself in.

The house was an odd shade of yellow-green, a simple rectangle box with a low box gable roof. It was a one bedroom, nothing like anyone who knew the old him would expect him to live in. And that was the point. He didn’t want to be found. Not now, not ever. Especially considering what he had planned.

Coming back from what he’d been through, being abandoned by the institution that he had devoted his life to, it had felt fake. He’d given them six more months before steeling himself in the quiet of night to collect his things from his desk, slipping a note on Emily’s desk, and walking out for the last time. He hated good-byes, hated even worse not being able to say good-bye, and he knew doing what he did maybe made him a hypocrite. But there was no way he could face them with the thoughts that had been going through his head.

So here he was, finally having picked a place to settle almost eighteen months after walking away. He wondered if eighteen months was long enough to safely start his plan without drawing attention too quickly. It would have to do either way.

The primary living area of the little house was divided into smaller areas by a couch and chair. A little two seater table was pushed to one wall and the kitchen, which consisted of little more than a pair of appliances and a sink, was in the far corner. The bathroom overlooked the back yard, which was mostly weeds, and the bedroom took up one end, filling out the rectangle. His things were still mostly in boxes, some he would have to give away eventually, others he would be disposing of in a different manner.

It was all part of the plan.

==

He’d rebranded himself, it hurt to not be able to use his degrees to find work, but that would be the first thing they would check when they started searching for him. He could imagine there was a computer already set to ping if his name or anything tied to that life was used. He’d drained his bank accounts and sold off his car before he changed his identity. Registering as a student, starting over from the bottom, it seemed like the best cover. And who would believe he was a former Fed anyway?

Mike Ross had started classes at the community college, most of them online so no one would notice his absences as he needed them. He figured it a kind of tribute to the men who would ultimately help him pull this off. Even if they didn’t know it. They had been good teachers, supportive and guiding in their time, but in the end even they had failed him. Abandoned him.

Slumping to the fridge, he stared inside until he decided on a peanut butter sandwich. Something about acting like a twenty-something college student was making him want to eat like one again. He’d have to watch that. No good packing on the freshman fifteen at this stage in life.

Sandwich in hand, he pulled out the files of potential men and women who fit the characteristics he wanted. Some were better matches than others, some he still needed to find matches for. Really, he wanted to start at the beginning, so the pile of older white men got pulled forward so he could thumb through them more intently.

==

Nevada was hot. He kicked his already dirty black work boots in the sand and stared out across the desert. He’d been staying just outside Vegas for two weeks, a junkie desperate for fix funds had let him have his trailer in exchange for the cash as well as some drugs as a sign of good faith. The man had also offered Mike other…services, which he declined. He just needed the off the grid space and privacy. It was easy to hide things in the desert. Things like evidence.

Marty Jackson was about as perfect a man as Mike could find. That wasn’t to say Marty was perfect. He was far from it. Mike had done his research on the retired lawyer and had learned that the middle-aged man had divorced his late wife when she was diagnosed with cancer, leaving her to care for their eight-year-old son. When his wife died a year later, Marty refused to take the boy in, forcing him into foster care to be cared for by strangers.

There was a twig of a tree several feet away, just far enough that no matter the time of day, Marty wouldn’t have the benefit of shade. Mike had tied him carefully so that the man’s hands were folded behind his head, elbows by his ears. His legs were tied together, feet bare so he wouldn’t try to run across the hot sand if he did manage to get free.

Mike was leaned against the tree, considering the man begging before him. “Begging and crying will just dehydrate you faster, you know. You’re going to admit what you did and then, if you’re lucky, I’ll kill you before the elements do.”

Marty tried to swallow to get some moisture in his throat. “I haven’t done anything! I swear! You have the wrong guy!”

“So, you didn’t leave your son with his sick mother?”

The balding man’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Did you or did you not leave your son, abandon your son, to be cared for by his ill mother? And then when he needed you the most, when the one good parent he had died! You threw him away, made him go live with strangers.” Mike stepped into the hot sun and knelt down. “Do you know what can happen to a kid in a foster home? I’ve seen it. I’ve scraped broken children out of those homes, dead children out of the yards. I’ve caught those broken children once they became adults and hurt or killed other people. Is that really what you wanted for your son?”

Marty shook his head frantically. “N-No! It’s not what I wanted! What are you going to do to me?”

“For now? Nothing.” Mike squinted up at the cloudless sky. “I’m going to go in and eat some lunch, keep an eye on you. Don’t worry.” He patted one elbow. “I won’t let the vultures get to you. Not today anyway.” Mike rose and headed for the dilapidated caravan to get out of the blistering sun. By nightfall he would have the older man right where he wanted him, willing to do anything to try and save himself. Mike smirked, too bad it wouldn’t work.

==

Marty stared up at the starry sky and shivered. For as hot as the desert got during the day, it got surprisingly cold at night and he wasn’t dressed for the change. He’d been thankful during the day that his captor had left him in his thin t-shirt and shorts but now they were soaked with sweat, adding to the chill.  True to his captor’s word, when vultures had started to circle late in the day, the younger man had appeared to drive them away. Whatever this man had planned for him, he wasn’t about to let the birds interrupt it. Finally, the man appeared from the trailer and walked his way with something in his hands.

“You’re going to write a letter apologizing to your son for what you’ve done.  I’ll tell you what to write, word for word.” Mike grinned thinly. “If you fight me or refuse, you die. And it will be a slow and painful death. If you cooperate, I’ll find something for you to drink. It won’t be much, but it will be something.” He tipped his head to the side and stared down, eyes focused and alert. “Do you agree to cooperate?”

Marty nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be good.”

“Good.” Mike purred. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

==

He’d spent an entire day just watching his catch suffer in the sun. The man was blistered and bleeding now. Two days in the desert without food or water was dangerous. Deadly. Mike didn’t care. Somewhere late on day one, the old man had wet himself, a gushing torrent of stench that had made the man cry with embarrassment. Noting the lack of tears, he’d pretended to calm the man by reassuring him that soon enough his body would stop producing urine altogether and then had left him to steam in his own smell.

The letter was ready and waiting now. Today, Marty hadn’t even broken a sweat and he’d seemed confused about where he was. Once Mike had started to loosen his bindings, the man hadn’t had the coordination to so much as roll over. Now as the sun was setting on the second day, his time was coming to an end. One way or another, the former attorney would not see another sunrise. As he became weaker and started to talk to things Mike couldn’t see, Mike untied him the rest of the way and checked for marks. The fabric he’d bought had done its job, no marks anywhere. Watching Marty try and get to his knees and fail, Mike donned two pairs of gloves and pulled several empty water bottles out of a plastic bag and dropped them in front of the dying man. “Look, water. Pick it up.” Mike watched as Marty grabbed bottle after bottle, bringing each one to his mouth only to find it empty.

“No more.” The man laid on his side. “All gone, no more.”

Pulling out the last bottle, Mike offered it to him. “There’s one more. Look.”

Marty grabbed for the clear liquid, gulping it down by the mouthful, spilling it down his fast where it sizzled across his blistered skin and dried instantly. Suddenly overwhelmed by the onslaught, his stomach seized and twisted. Tossing the empty bottle away, Marty landed on all fours and heaved, emptying his stomach of the water, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid seeing it wasted as it splashed across the sand.

“Good.” Mike purred again. “Just lay down and rest now.” He watched the defeated man drop to his side, barely avoiding the mess.

As evening wore on, he checked the man’s vitals. He was dying, slowly. That wouldn’t do. Returning to the van, he found where he’d stored extra of the drugs and drew a large amount into a syringe. Needle in hand, Mike headed back to the man to finish the job. Lining it up, he sank the needle it, depressing the plunger hard and fast. It didn’t take long to feel the already dying man’s breathing slow and then stop. Shortly after, Mike couldn’t feel a pulse either. He’d done it. He’d killed the first one.

Mike spent a few hours just watching to make sure Marty was really dead before folding the letter carefully and tucking it in the dead man’s pocket. His job here was done.


	2. David

California was definitely more pleasant than Nevada had been. Mike had headed home for a few days to handle the classes he was taking and let his neighbors see him coming and going, but now he’d watched his next target walk of his office building and head for his car for the second day in a row. The man was nothing if not predictable. And that was a little of the problem. His wife would be used to such predictability and would worry if he didn’t show up, so Mike had arranged for her to win a vacation four-day cruise that the sweet little Missus Toniton had left for that morning.

Pulling the van he’d scored from a chop shop an hour outside of town up to block the professor’s vehicle from the security cameras, Mike did his best to look lost and confused. “Excuse me?”

The professor looked up and smiled. “Can I help you?”

“Um, yeah. I’m looking for the sciences building. The physics labs.”

“Oh, well those are all the way across campus, there isn’t really a direct route from here. Give me a second to put my things away and I’ll write out the directions for you.”

Mike smiled sweetly. “Thanks.” He watched the professor load his car and come back. “This campus is so confusing.”

Samuel Toniton approached the van and got a glimpse inside. “Just moved here?”

“Yeah. Thought I would get a feel for the area first.” He let his eyes follow a pair of young undergrads as they walked across the lot. He caught the professor watching as well.

“There’s a lot worth looking at around here. I’m sure you’ll find something you enjoy.”

Mike accepted the written directions from the older man. “Would you know where the best places to look around would be?”

The old man smiled. “Of course. And I’d be happy to show you.”

“Climb on in then.”

==

Pulling into the garage of the home he’d rented in Pasadena, Mike, who for the next few days was Dave, shut off the van and hit the remote to lower the door. In the back of his van, still unconscious and bound, was Professor Sam. The drive had been just over six hours with the stop to refuel and grab himself a bite to eat and Mike was ready to get some sleep, but first he needed to rouse the good professor enough to get him inside and tied to the bed.

Samuel Toniton had always prided himself on being able to keep his shit together, even under pressure. He’d never envisioned he’d be the victim of a deranged man. He also never expected the deranged man to be so quite or organized.

He was tied to a bed now, still fully dressed but gagged so he couldn’t shout. His captor had used some sort of athletics bottle to squirt water into his mouth to keep him hydrated and then had bid him goodnight before flipping the light switch and pulling the door shut. Sam wasn’t sure what was going on but it was clear the other man was intending on going to bed.

==

Mike stood and stared down at his prize. “I know all about you and guys like you. You use your position to get young, vulnerable kids to do what you want. You manipulate them into giving up things they wouldn’t normally give up.”

The gag had been removed this morning, Sam was concerned about what that might mean about their location. “I don’t know what you think you know!”

Mike pulled out a file with some papers in it. “What I know? I know about Angela, about how she magically suddenly decided it didn’t happen. Convenient for you, wasn’t it? I also know about the girls on campus, the ones who wouldn’t turn you in. The ones who traded sex for a passing grade. Students trusted you to guide them, help them improve and learn and you were nothing of what a professor should be.” He glanced out the window at the sunrise. “See that? Enjoy it, because you’ll only get one more.”

Sam’s eyes widened as the man turned to leave. “Wait! What?”

Mike smiled. “We’re going to have a little fun. The tables have turned now Professor. Now you’ll service me, you’ll know how it feels to be degraded. And then when I’m done? You’ll die.”

==

Judging by the changing light in the room, it was almost dusk and for that, Sam wasn’t sure if he was thankful or not. He was hungry, but his captor had provided him with water at regular intervals, a dozen times, or close to it, so far so he figured it was probably on the hour, as well as bathroom breaks where he’d remained mostly bound and had to sit. The violation came, but not in the way Sam had expected. So far, his captor hadn’t imposed his own body on him. The manipulation had been all verbal, mental. Now he was laying, tied again to the bed, still wearing his shirt, tie, and jacket from work as well as his socks and shoes. The man had cut away his pants and boxers and had left him exposed. That in itself had been a violation to him, he wasn’t the type to just flaunt himself anywhere. He’d berated him for abusing young teens, taking advantage of students, all while he lay exposed on the bed. But now night was falling and he wasn’t sure what the man had in store for him next.

Mike left the room and returned with a box. He pulled out a black object and looked it over. “Good, this is yours for the night.”

“What is that?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” He presented it. “I can’t risk leaving anything behind and you’re not my type anyway, so instead you’re going to take this. It’s brand new, just for you.”

“Take it where?”

Mike laughed. “Up the ass of course!” He poured lube down the bulbs of the long, slightly curved anal plug and leaned forward. “Ever had anal sex before?”

“N-no.” Sam tried to pull away, but he’s legs were tied to opposite corners. “And I don’t plan on starting now!”

“Aww, you still think you’re in charge.” Mike mocked. He dropped the hand holding the slick toy and pressed it very slightly. “Now you can know what it feels like to have a man fill you up. To feel that violation as someone with power over you takes something away from you.” He added pressure until it started to slide in, each bulb adding more stretch as it went. “Bedtime, so the gag goes back on.” Mike tied the cloth back around his mouth. “Good night.”

Sam listened for what felt like hours. There wasn’t no sound coming from anywhere in the house. He was lying alone, exposed, violated. His captor had said he would only see one more sunrise. If he was going to die anyway, there was no sense making it easy. Shifting on the bed he tried to work the bands that held him in place. Bending his knees a bit he tried to pull up and gasped, the thing that was in him shifted, causing some sort of reaction in his body. Ignoring it, he tried again and something happened again. It was like his body lit up, was almost on fire. Lifting his head to try to figure out what was going on, he could see his half hard cock lifted off his leg. Changing tactics, he instead tried to lay very still.

==

Sleep had come in short bursts for Toniton. Any time he’d moved, the thing had moved as well, nudging his body into arousal and he didn’t want to give his captor the satisfaction.So he tried to keep awake as much as possible. The dark black of the room shifted into dim gray and he knew sunrise was coming. His last sunrise if the man was to be believed and he wouldn’t get to spend it with his wife. If this was really about the women the man kept going on about, he wished he could go back and undo all he’d done. It wasn’t worth this.

He rolled his head to the side to see as the door opened. Mike strolled in with a pad of paper and a pen.

“I’m going to loosen one hand a bit and prop you up and then you’re going to write what I say.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Mike’s voice was incredulous. “Because I’m the one holding all the cards here.” Not asking again, Mike found a stack of pillows and stuffed them under Sam’s back until he was sort of propped up, arms pulled to the side and back tight. A second loop was tied around his right wrist and then the first one released. He couldn’t reach far enough to reach any of the other ties, but he could pull it close. A pad of paper was dropped on his stomach and a pen was pressed in his hand.

“Write.”

“No.”

His eyebrows rose. “Write.”

“I’m not going to write a damned thing!” Sam growled.

He pulled a small piece of plastic out of his pocket and thumbed it. “You might want to reconsider that.”

“Or what?” He snapped

“This.” Mike pressed the piece of plastic and Sam gasped and thrashed. Another press and Sam sagged into the bed. “Now, write.”

“Okay, okay!” Sam picked up the pen and as Mike spoke, he wrote.

Collecting the completed letter, Mike moved to leave. “I’ll be back later. Today will be much different.” He pressed the plastic thing again and left the room, leaving the door ajar.

Sam tried to get away from the buzzing, vibrating thing. Rolling, pulling on the restrains, he arched and yanked and then landed back in the same position over and over, each time disturbing it, jarring it in. After a frustratingly long time, he resigned himself to the indignity of how he body was reacting, thankful that his captor hadn’t seemed interested in sticking around to watch and twisted his body to the side until he could wrap his hand around himself and find relief.

He never saw the man return, but as he finished making his mess, the thing shut off, leaving him to cool and grow uncomfortable for an entirely different reason, all alone.

==

The day progressed much like it started, Sam was left alone until Mike appeared and reminded him of what he’d done and then as he left, he flicked the switch and turned the thing on again. Exhausted and spent, covered in his own growing mess. He wasn’t used to having something inside him for the length of time it’s been in and his body had done its best to clear itself of the violation by any means necessary. After that had happened, Mike had turned up, nose curled, and rambled about how much of a baby he was, needing to be changed and cleaned up by someone else. He hadn’t actually done it, but he’d still berated him about it.

But now the sun was setting, time was running out. His begging and pleading hadn’t seemed to work. He could tell Mike wasn’t doing this randomly, he was a man on a mission. That didn’t bode well for him. When Mike reappeared with a syringe in his hand, Sam knew this was it.

“What’s that?”

“This?” He waved the small item in the air. “Just a little something for you.”

“For what?”

“Well, I have to get back to other things. This was fun and all, but I best be moving on. It really was a shame this all had to happen, but men like you don’t stop until someone stops them. I know.”

“You know?” Sam tried to lean away from the approaching needle.

“Yes. You see, I had a professor just like you. And like you, his status as a pillar of the campus and community outweighed my position as a student. Your sacrifice will be for all those students who became second class because of powerful men with privilege.” The needle pierced his skin at his elbow and Mike slammed the plunger down. Another one checked off the list.

When Mike left in the dead of night, he’d made sure to wipe every surface of the otherwise empty house and the car which he’d left in the garage. He’d left the windows open and doors unlocked. If someone didn’t come by sooner being nosey, eventually the smell would attract the attention of the neighbors.


	3. Jason

Repacking his bag with fresh clothes, Mike dumped the dirty ones in his washer. He only had the night to get everything clean and taken care of and drop his papers for his classes off at the university in the morning before he was on the road again. It made him wonder if he was going to be able to keep up this pace until the end. A plan for spree killing was only as successful as the stamina of the man doing it, he knew that. What felt like a lifetime of living and working on a moment’s notice, living out of go bags and eating on the run had worked in his favor and he hoped it would keep up.

Jumping in the shower, he ran over what he knew about his next target in his head. Jerry Duffy lived alone and he was a shining example of a man running away from his responsibilities. Mike had big plans for how to spend Jerry’s last two days of life.

==

Northern Ohio was nice this time of year. Mike strolled through the small park taking in the families playing around him. It was calming. For the first time, he thought back to another park and another family, a little boy darting across the grass and jumping into his arms, laughing.

Shaking himself back into the present, Mike reminded himself he couldn’t think of them now. They were gone, there was nothing he could do about that. Once his project was completed, he could remember them, but right now he was in search of his next victim. The man was in this park somewhere, he just had to find which bench he was on.

==

The man, Jerry Duffy, was almost perfect, Mike could make adjustments until he fit the bill. And who would expect a kid with his build to be able to take a man like Jerry with such ease. It had been easy.

Jerry walked his dog in the park every afternoon, parking under a stand of maple trees that provided not only efficient shade, but enough light distortion to make him invisible through the windshield as he had watched and waited. When the older man and tiny dog were found on a bench by the duck pond, Mike stumbled back toward his car quietly and waited. Jerry was a man with a kind heart, ignoring a young man possibly in distress just wasn’t his way. The last thing kind Jerry saw as the trunk slammed shut was little Gentry fleeing into the woods, leash dragging along behind him.

==

The next time Jerry returned to awareness he was sitting inside what looked suspiciously like a storage unit tied carefully to a wooden chair. A young man, the man from the park, was working at a table, back to him. “What do you want?”

The young man turned around and frowned. “That won’t do.” He muttered to himself. “I’ll just have to gag you so you won’t talk. Your voice is all wrong. Tell me, can you play chess?”

Jerry swallowed and nodded.

“Good. I’ll move your bindings so you can have one arm free to play. I had to guess your size, so I’m sorry if the clothes don’t fit quite right.”

Looking down, he realized he’d never seen the clothes he was in before. Khaki pants and a button down shirt, nothing too unusual but still not something he’d ever worn. Jerry played into the fantasy and motioned his hand to ask for a pen. The younger man lit up and hurried to provide one.

Reading what his captive wrote, he smiled. “Who are you? You are a quick study, I knew you’d be a good choice. I’m Mike. We are going to sit here and play chess, I’ll know if you’re trying to throw the game because I was taught by the best and I don’t forget anything. And when the game is over, I’m going to punish you for abandoning your students, for abandoning your responsibilities. You knew the nightmare you were throwing them into but you were too self-centered to care.”

==

Opening moves had been made. Mike stared down at the board. “I was just a kid. I was yanked out of school like I was a damned treasure but no one cared about me!” He slammed a fist onto the table, making the pieces jump slightly. “I was just a toy! And when the novelty wore off? I was tossed aside, left behind for someone else to do something with!”

Jerry couldn’t help but shake. He didn’t know what this young man who’d said his name was Mike was capable of. He hadn’t seen any weapons, hadn’t been threatened yet, but he had a feeling it was coming in time.

==

As the sunlight through the spaces around the door faded, Jerry figured it was a good sign that so far, his captor hadn’t harmed him or even gagged him yet. He really wanted to play along and maybe survive, but he hadn’t been fed all day. Trying to appease Mike, he wrote him a note.

Mike read the page and fumed. How dare he make demands after everything he’d put him through. Lurching up, he swiped the table, sending the chess board and pieces scattering across the floor. “No! You don’t deserve food! You deserve nothing! Do you hear me? Nothing!” Snatching the rope, he rebound the man’s arm to the chair, making sure it was plenty tight.  Grabbing the gag, he wrapped it tight in Duffy’s mouth before adding another to muffle any sounds the man attempted. He was tired, it had been a long day of dealing with the man who had changed so many in such a drastic way, he was ready to sleep. First, he had to set things up for the night.

Spreading peanut butter randomly over the flinching man, Mike then poured bird seed and mealworms all over, making sure some stuck where he’d slathered the peanut butter and then stood back. A human bird feeder, it was perfect. Crossing the small space, Mike opened several cages Jerry hadn’t noticed before and set free a small flock of birds who all head straight for the free meal.

Flipping off the light in the room, he made sure the door was locked and headed home.

==

When the door opened again the next morning, Jerry blinked in the bright light. The birds had spent the night picking and pecking at him, trying to get at the seed and worms, beaks and feet bruising and cutting him.

Mike came in and watched the birds a minute before flipping on the light and watching the birds scatter. “Good morning. Have a good night?”

Jerry just glared at him.

“I figure the birds would keep you company overnight. Did they?” He dragged a table close enough and dropped a pad of paper and pen on it. “I talk, you write. Understand?”

The older man nodded and waited for his hand to be loosened so he could comply. As the younger man spoke, Jerry wrote the words down, listening to the apology he was being forced to pen. It was an apology meant to be found after death. The final steps were being made for his death.

Once the letter was done, Mike re-tied him and carefully folded it away before finding the syringe and filling it. “We’re going for a drive.”

==

It took an hour to find the right stretch of road. Having picked, he drove into town and found a diner and had lunch, complete with milkshake. After today, the old man would be dead for good. Revenge served for dragging him into the world that eventually pulled him under so many times he couldn’t come out again.

Returning to the spot along the road that he’d picked, Mike popped the trunk and hefted Jerry, now too weak to fight him, onto the ground and rolled him into the grass. Lining up the syringe, Mike knew exactly where to inject to make death guaranteed. He took a breath and muttered, “See what I’m good at because of you.” He pushed the drugs in and watched the man’s eyes dim.

Returning to the car, Mike collected the letter and tucked it into the pocket of the dead man’s clothes. No one would find the storage unit for at least six months, he’d paid in cash up front. By then he hoped to be done with his list and in the wind for good.


	4. Derek

Garcia frowned at the file on her screen and decided it needed another set of eyes. Printing a hard copy, she headed for Emily’s office and knocked.

“What’s up, Penelope?”

“Any cases that have an odd signature where the unsub did something extra and specific I have flagged to watch for patterns. Well, this one came in and there’s something hinky about it.” She passed her boss the file. “Marty Jackson, fifty-six-year-old male and retired attorney found in the desert outside Vegas in early May. He was dehydrated and starved, no signs of foul play except.” She paused and flipped the page to a photo. “He was injected with a high dose of heroin and there was an apology letter found in his pocket. What little family and co-workers he did have say that this letter does not sound like him.”

Garcia handed Emily the next file. “A week later in southern California, Samuel Toniton, forty-three-year-old male and professor from San Francisco was found in an empty house in Pasadena. The house was totally clean, absolutely no forensics. There was a stolen car in the garage that was traced back to Oregon. Mister Toniton definitely had foul play happen to him, the icky details are in there, but his cause of death was a high dose of heroin. There was also an apology letter in his pocket, again, the wording was off.”

Emily tucked her hair behind her eyes. “Anything connect the two men?”

“Nothing directly. There weren’t saints though. Jackson filed for divorce when he wife got cancer, leaving her to care for their eight-year-old son and when his ex-wife died, he refused to take the boy in, forcing him into foster care.

Toniton liked the girls and by girls I mean he had charges brought against him that were later dropped accusing him of sex with teenaged girls and he had a reputation of sex with his students.”

“God.” Emily read over the files.

“There’s another one.” Garcia frowned and handed her another file. “Jerry Duffy.”

“Where’s he?”

“Ohio.”

“Ohio?”

The blonde nodded. “Sixty-five-year-old professor who one day in the middle of term left and never came back. He was an advisor for a bunch of grad students, left them in a lurch. He was found dumped on the side of the road, heroin and another letter. He was also covered in bits of peanut butter and bird seed.” She flipped the page. “And look.”

Emily’s jaw dropped. “He could be Gideon’s twin.”

“I know. Creepy, right?”

“Very.”

Penelope drew in a breath. “I think these are related. I know it’s a big area, but there are several similarities that are just too specific.”

“I agree. Contact the local agencies and request more information from them, see if you can talk directly to the lead person for each case and let’s find out what else might be similar.”

“Right away.”

“Thank you, Penelope.”

“Always.”

==

Mike had broken into the old building in the bad area of Chicago and brought in his supplies under the cover of night. He carefully set a sealed box to one side, it would be a horrible waste if it were to tip and open before he was ready.

Checking that the room was set up how he wanted it, Mike smiled to himself and slipped out. He had an early morning date with a man named Doug about a house.

==

Emily looked at the team gathered around the table. “We don’t officially have a case yet, but we do have a pattern. Almost one week ago, someone abducted, held, and then killed this man in Ohio.” She put his picture on the screen. “Exactly one week prior, this man in California was abducted, held and then killed. A week prior to that, this man in Nevada was found in the desert. All three men had been injected with a lethal dose of heroin and all three had apology letters in their pockets.”

JJ was speechless. “That’s a serious comfort zone.”

“Yes. Right now, we don’t have enough to know where to go, but we are turning up a man a week with the same signature. This case is going on everyone’s pile and we’re all going to look over it and see if we think of anything new every day. If and when we get another body, maybe it will teach us something new.” Emily nodded at her team.

==

Doug had put up a fight. Staring at the now unconscious man tied to the chair a moment, Mike went back to cleaning up his wounds on his arms and face. None of his previous victims had put up much of a fight, but Douglas Adamson had turned out to have a bit more in common with the man he was representing than Mike had anticipated.

Gagging his guest, Mike slipped out to purchase peroxide and other cleaning supplies. His first priority would have to be evidence removal. It cut into his plans for the day, but it would do no good for his DNA to pop up in CODIS and give the whole thing away. He just had to hope his crimes went undetected long enough by the magical computers he knew he couldn’t hide forever from that he could see his plan through to the end.

==

Three days later, Emily met Garcia at her office door. “Ready to see if our unsub struck again?”

Penelope shook her head. “No..” She let them both in and fired up her computer. “This guy could turn up anywhere. Or not at all.”

Emily sank into a chair. “Let’s see what your computer says. If we have another body then I’ll start getting something together to start releasing to state agencies on down.We have three men dead who appear unrelated except for a signature. To cover the kind of ground this guy seems to be, he’d need to either be unemployed or able to work remotely.”

“Who do you think could be doing this?”

“I don’t know, Garcia. I wish I did though.”

“Whoever is doing this could find a lot just doing a simple search. And goodness knows we’ve made enough enemies… Oh no.”

“What?” Emily sat forward in her seat.

“Douglas Adamson was found yesterday in a derelict building in Chicago. His hands had been broken by what they guess was a hammer of some sort and he was totally covered in fire ant bites.” She pulled up the attached photos for Emily to see. “Heroin and an apology note were found just like the others.”

Emily read the picture of the note. “He apologizes for moving away.” Shaking hair from her eyes, she frowned. “He says he regrets leaving his family.”

“Look here.” Penelope pointed at the screen. “His wife said that Saturday morning he’d left to show a house and she never heard from him again after that.”

“So he was a realtor.”

“No.” She looked up at her friend. “He renovated the houses. He bought old ones and made them habitable.”

==

Holed up in a hotel, Mike stretched out on one questionable bed and reflected on how his weekend had gone. Douglas Adamson had been serious work to get in and out of his car unconscious and tied to a chair. The forty-year-old Chicago resident had been well muscled, it was why Mike liked him so well for this. While he was still unconscious, Mike used a wet razor to shave his head and face and redressed him is dark jeans and a tee-shirt. He knew the man would rage again once awake, so he tied extra rope around his shoulders and thighs, making sure a sturdy gag kept him from shouting too loud.

The man didn’t disappoint. The transition from asleep to angrily awake was swift and enticing. He liked to see him angry.

“You know why you’re here. You know what you did.” Mike had leaned over his ear. “You don’t get to talk now, make up excuses for not visiting, not calling.” The man thrashed in the chair and he jumped back before chuckling. “Nice try, but I know you. You’re predictable. All talk about how important I am to you but when the shit really hits the fan? Nowhere to be seen. If I could make this last longer, I would, but that’s not the game. The game is I explain to you your failings and make you pay for them and then tonight you get some company.” His grin was slightly feral as he stared down at the man in the chair.

==

Everyone was already in the round table room when Emily walked into the BAU. Hurrying up the steps, she stepped in. “Something happen?” She wondered if there was something she’d missed in the time since she’d left the analyst’s office earlier in the morning.

“Not yet.” Rossi answered. “But we figured we’d all come in here and wait to hear.”

The blonde bustled in. “I’m here now! And it’s not good.” She tapped and pulled up the information. “Meet one Douglas Adamson, Chicago resident and father and until he was taken, not clean shaven.”

“Altering looks again.” JJ observed.

“Yes, as well as heroin and a note apologizing to his family. He was tortured with fire ants it seems, his body was covered in bites. Bad ones.” Garcia sighed. “This is four dead in four weekends.”

Emily frowned. “This is also the second victim that bears more than a passing resemblance to someone who used to be on this team. Given our history with attracting unhappy stalkers, I’m erring on the side of caution and have had messages go out to almost everyone associated past or present with this team.”

“What’s that mean? Almost?” JJ pressed.

“I haven’t been able to get a message through to Hotch and Reid has vanished.”

“But… We have to find them.”


	5. Jennifer

He’d never been to this part of Pennsylvania before. It was truly beautiful out here. He couldn’t help but wonder what would make someone leave such natural beauty to live in a big city and do such a horrible job, but he supposed everyone had something driving them to be who they were. He used to have something driving him to be the best at what he did, saving people but now. Now he had a different thing driving him. Anger, hatred, he couldn’t quite name it exactly, but he could feel it with him, over him, always.

Rebecca Sinclair, Becky to the other moms in the neighborhood, was a widowed mother of three. Somewhere in a state prison in the Midwest, her brother was rotting for life, a brother that records told him she hadn’t visited with a single day since his incarceration. It seemed she’d simply written him off as dead.

Such a shame.

Even a single visit might have spared her life.

==

Becky was afraid. Abductions were something that happened in big cities and to other people, not to her in this small town. She couldn’t make out where she was in the dark, just that it wasn’t a house. Or familiar. She was tied up tightly, gagged, and being held in place on the thin mattress by what felt like a sheet or parts of a sheet tied around her neck. She’d been blitzed just after dropping her girls off for a sleep over, the man hadn’t said anything as he’d shoved her into the back of her own van and driven toward the old strip mall across town. There he’d pulled around the side where there were no cameras and had transferred her to the trunk of a small car before leaving. She had no idea where her van was now. The man hadn’t said a word at all during the drive nor when he’d covered her head with a bag and carried her into this place.

==

David Rossi strolled into her office and took a seat, just as he had in this same office for years. It seemed no matter the occupant, the only way to get answers was to simply come in and get comfortable.

Finally, Emily sighed and looked up. “Just because that trick worked on Hotch doesn’t mean it will work on me.”

His brows rose. “You stopped working.” He pointed out. “It’s Friday night.”

“I know.”

“If our man is going to strike again, it will be tonight or early tomorrow.”

“I know that too.”

“Do you really think this has something to do with our team?”

“My gut is telling me something.”

He let his smirk fade. “If you were Aaron, I would have told him it was probably his ulcer and he should see a doctor about it.”

“And he would just listen to you?”

“No. And I pretended not to notice him sucking down any kind of over the counter medicine he could find.”

“So… What was the point?”

Dave shrugged. “Sometimes it’s nice just to know someone sees you.” He tapped his finger on the arm of the chair. “You’re sitting in here wondering where the body will pop up next.” It wasn’t a question.

“You’ve been doing this job since before I was born…”

He slowly nodded. “I’ve done my share of sitting up, waiting for the next body. I watched Morgan do it when he was in charge and Aaron… I know there were nights he didn’t sleep at all. But if this man kills again, he’s going to do it whether or not you are awake. And isn’t it better to be well rested and refreshed when the news comes in?”

“You’re right.”

Dave stood. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

She rose a well. “You mean, you’ll make sure I leave.”

“Eh. Just the bonus of walking my beautiful boss to her car.”

Emily took his arm when he offered it, chuckling. “Bet you never said that to your last boss.”

==

Becky woke up to the sound of an old wooden screen door slamming. Footsteps approached where she was laying until a man came into view.

“Good morning.” Mike’s voice was soft, kind. “I brought some books, thought I would read to you. You might know them, but it’s always nice to have someone read to you. I bet you knew that though, didn’t you?” He dragged a chair over near the mattress and took a seat. Seeing the fear in her eyes, he leaned down and cupped her face with his hand. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you. Not today anyway. Today we’ll read, later I’m going to ask you to write a letter to your brother. Remember him? You owe him an apology for what you’ve done.” He pulled his hand away. “And if you cooperate, I won’t kill you. Do you understand?”

Becky nodded.

“I’m glad. Now, relax and I’ll tell you a story.”

==

He honestly hadn’t expected his most recent company to be so complacent, to give up so easily. The lack of anger, of reaction, took some of the fun out of her company, but he had to make do with what he’d picked.

Today the woman was a crying, quivering mess. He’d forced himself to ignore her misery and continue reading to her like a small child. Like he’d done to small children before.

==

Dave was in Emily’s office waiting with her when Garcia appeared in the doorway, tears in her eyes early Monday morning. “Who, Garcia?” He prodded her to talk.

“Rebecca Sinclair was found this morning in the gutter a block over from her home. Her three girls had spent the weekend at a friend’s house. She was, um, she was a single mother. She had heroin and the letter.”

“Where?” Emily carefully tried to tug the file out of her hand.

“Pennsylvania.”

Opening the folder, she sucked in a breath through her teeth.

“What?”

Emily showed him the picture. “It’s practically JJ.”

“She was found with a pile of children’s books next to her. Too young for her own girls.” Garcia’s voice was a whisper now.

“This, whatever this is, it’s personal.” Emily read through the rest of the file. “But then who were the first two victims? If the last three are supposed to represent people on this team, who were the other two?”

Seeing a task she could do, Penelope straightened. “I’ll start looking into that.”

==

The entire team was working in the conference room. Emily was helping Luke assemble the victim board with pictures and details about each individual case. The timeline was tight, every person had gone missing sometime either very late Friday or early Saturday and their time of death had all been placed Sunday night.

Given the changes in states, whoever they were after had some serious time on their hands.

“Can someone really keep up this pace forever?” Tara asked. “This is a seriously strict timeline, no room for something to go wrong.”

“Well.” Dave frowned. “He kills them Sunday night and then doesn’t take the next till at least Friday night. That gives him all week to either travel or check in with work. Abducting and killing on the weekends suggests he has some other responsibilities that fall during part or all of the work week.”

Tara turned to Garcia. “And there was nothing with this signature anywhere?”

“No, nothing.”

“Weird. The organization and planning here speaks of someone older than our usual profile, someone with experience. People don’t normally just jump into this sort of killing spree with this sort of precision.”

“So, what? You think they’ve done something before?” Garcia looked between all of the profilers.

JJ shrugged. “It’s really odd.”

“My next question is.” Dave stared at the board. “Who’s next?” Looking at the row of photos from across the room, something clicked. “Dios Mio.”

Emily looked up sharply. “What?”

“The first man, from Vegas. That could be William Reid.”


	6. Emily

JJ rushed onto the jet and looked around. It had been a week since her own doppelganger had turned up in a gutter and a phone call from Emily in the early hours had told her there was another body. The sun wasn’t set to rise for a couple hours yet as the jet took off. “Where are we headed?”

“Texas.” Emily supplied. “The body of Alexandra Franklin was found just after midnight in what the locals called ‘an appalling manner’. We don’t have photos or the full file yet but they are meeting us on the ground. We are working on the assumption he’s already left the area, probably the state, but this will be the first disposable scene we get to see intact.” She stopped speaking when her laptop connected to Garcia. “What do you got?”

“I have the driver’s license photo so far for Miss Franklin.” She vanished and was replaced with a photo of a woman whose face was similar to Emily’s but the woman had almost dishwater blonde curls past her shoulders. “I can tell you she was forty-two years old, she was not a native of the area but had travelled the world moving from company to company climbing the ladder. According to her most recent employee file she spoke five languages and had a reputation of being a bit ruthless. She wasn’t afraid to step on others or steal promotions to achieve her goals.”

Dave tried to gauge Emily’s reaction subtly.

Garcia continued. “I will get more information to you as soon as I have it.” Then she vanished and the screen went dark.

==

The team stood in various spots around the dead woman. JJ was knelt down on one side of the dark wood casket. “These clothes are new. Look.” She pointed to where the pockets were still stitched shut. “What’d he do to her hair?” The woman no longer had long curly hair but shoulder length jet black hair.

Dave was by the head and used a pen to have a look. “It’s a wig. Her head’s shaved and he stitched a wig to her scalp.” He felt slightly ill that someone he’d known for years could do something like this.

Tara helped Luke open the casket and everyone gasped. “This was post mortem, there’s no blood here.”

Jutting up from the body’s stomach was a wooden stake.

Emily had to get away. There was no mistaking that this was meant to represent her. A hand on her shoulder made her jump. “How could Reid be driven to this?”

Rossi sighed. “I don’t know. But if we weren’t convinced it’s him before, I think this really seals it.”

“Will we ever find him?”

“We’ll find him.” He nodded confidently.

“But he knows all of our methods, knows all about signatures.”

“And yet at every crime scene he’s been leaving a very clear one.”

“I think that’s been planned out.” She chewed her lip. “He’s taunting us. Look at what he did, Rossi! He redressed her, sewed different hair on her, this is what I should have looked like when Hotch and JJ said I was dead!” She stilled. “We need to figure out who that second man is.”

“Let’s tell the locals they can have their crime scene back. We know Spencer’s not around here anymore. If he’s keeping to the same timescale, he’s already moved on.” He started to guide her back to the others. “We’re running out of team members, we need to figure out where he went after he quit.”

==

Garcia shook her head. “He vanished guys. Nothing related to his name or social security number has popped up anywhere. If he’s lurking somewhere, it’s under a different identity. But once you said this was our baby genius doing this, I got to thinking. When I was as CalTech there was this professor who had a reputation of making advances on some of the younger students. There were complaints and rumors but nothing ever came of it. So I did what I do and I dug. In the nineties there was one complaint that went to court, like, real court, not just campus court, but part of the settlement was that everything related to the case had to stay sealed.”

“Tell me you unsealed it, Garcia.” Emily replied.

“I did. Now, the complainant isn’t identified because of their age as a minor but the end result was that said minor would be able to continue studying at the school tuition free for as long as he or she wished. So I got to thinking, a school like that, students are traditionally only there so many years before moving on to careers but this student’s number was tied to a tuition expense sheet that extended ten years. Which is way beyond when a normal student would still be there unless.” She paused for effect. “Unless the student was extremely young.”

“So, the complainant could have been Reid.” She sighed.

“It is very possible all things considering.”

“Thank you Penelope.” She hung up and turned back to the rest of the group. “Now we just have to find Reid.”

“An FBI trained profiler genius magician with an eidetic memory. That shouldn’t be hard at all.” Rossi groused.


	7. Dave

What cop, retired or otherwise, expects someone to be ballsy enough to snatch them? That’s what Frank had always though. He  _ looked _ like a cop, who messes with a cop? But here he was, tied up in a damp, odd smelling suit. When the man he suspected had pulled off this feat stepped back into the room, he growled at him. “Let me go! Don’t you know who I am!”

The man, stringy hair dangling, leaned in but still out of reach. “I do. Do you know who  _ I _ am?”

“No! Should I?”

The thin man shrugged. “It’s okay if you don’t. But I will tell you, you’re not my first and you’re not going to be my last, so…”

“Why am I wet? What did you put on me?”

“Oh. That? That coat has been soaked in a tobacco mixture, it will kill you eventually. But I plan on killing you before that so it’s really just to make you unable to fight back. That, and the man who will see you will know you’re supposed to be him. He liked his fancy clothes and scotch.” Spencer flicked invisible lint from his shirt. “And cigars. Hence the tobacco. He’ll know the gift is from me. I suspect they are looking for me now.”

“Who is?”

“The FBI.”

Frank paled. “The FBI is hunting you?”

Spencer nodded. “No doubt. I’ll be long gone before they find you though. First, we have to get you to write a letter saying how sorry you are.”

“I’m not doing nothing!”

“Very well then. I’ll be back when you’re a bit more amenable.” Spencer flicked off the lights and left.

==

Dave wanted to cry. He’d gotten a tip through private channels and had made the first train to New York in the wee hours of the morning to stare down at what could have been almost his twin. He’d sent to locals away to call Emily after just a single glance at the scene, a vial from the heroin and the note in the man’s pocket confirmed it was Reid. What was bringing tears to his eyes was the book. Beside the former Frank Ricci was propped a book, a copy of his first book. There was a familiar stain on the bottom corner that he would bet his house if it was tested would be coffee. Slipping on his gloves, Dave opened the front page and checked.

_ To Spencer, the one person who probably knows this book better than I do. _

Pulling out his phone, Rossi dialed. “Hey, Em. I’m in New York. No, it’s me this time, and Emily? He knows.”


	8. Penelope

Spencer smiled down at his handiwork. Amber Bates had been a gem in the rough when he’d found her living in Virginia. Right under their noses. As he’d expected, she never saw danger anywhere, especially not in a scrawny young man with long curly hair and big eyes. He’d talked her out of the coffee shop and into his car, her chattering animatedly as he abducted her.

She hadn’t even noticed something was wrong until he pulled onto the interstate and pointed the car East. By then her fate was sealed. She’d tried to scream and get away, but a blow to the head with the butt of his gun, the one he used to scare his guests, settled her right down. He felt a little bad about doing it, he remembered well exactly how much it hurt, but it wouldn’t do him any good to feel bad for her now.

Once he got her to the room, Spencer gave her a little something to keep her asleep a while longer and then stripped her naked. Out of a bag he pulled a bright pink and orange dress randomly coated in sequins and bows. She was dead weight, but her got everything into place and the thick chunky pink heels on her feet. Returning to the bag, Spencer found the stack of jewelry and decorated the sleeping woman before finally tying her to a wooden chair. Secured, he picked through some make-up and closed his eyes to think back to how his former friend always looked before fixing Amber to look the same. He had a special treat in store for her just as soon as everything was set.

==

In the wee hours of Saturday morning, the silence of the apartment complex was broken by a blood curdling scream.

Thirty minutes later, the thunder of footsteps echoed up the stairwell and into an apartment. A short time after that, a sobbing woman plus her laptop were escorted out. As much as the sight of what had opened on her computer had horrified and sickened her, she was necessary in solving the case.

She would have to keep watching anyway.

==

Dave took his turn first sitting in the tech cave, chair pulled close and one arm around the young woman as they watched, together, the unknown woman on the screen struggling to get free.

“Did you know…” Her voice wavered with tears. “When he was abducted. I sat in a room in this house for two days and watched?” Her voice cracked.

“No. I didn’t know that.” He tried to think back to what he’d been told by Aaron when he’d first joined the team. “I knew he’d been taken, but not much else.”

Garcia nodded. “Everyone else was working the case to find him but my job was to just sit and watch, try to track the feed.” They both got quiet when a shadow entered the frame.

_ “Hello Amber, I’m Mike. Like I’ve done for everyone else, I’m going to be very honest with you. We’re going to spend some time together today and tomorrow and then I’ll kill you. I know all about people like you so I have a special treat for you.” _ From his side, he lifted what looked like a large fire poker attached to a long cable. Adjusting the grip in his head, ‘Mike’ pressed it into Amber’s arm, making the woman scream in pain.

Even as Penelope sought refuge in his arms, Rossi couldn’t look away from the screen. He would never forget the screams as the woman who clearly was meant to represent the gentle woman he was holding screamed as she was burned.

The poker lifted and pressed down again and again. Both flinched at every scream. If this was what they were going to have to endure for two days, it would be a hell unlike they’d ever known before.

==

The internet feed was bouncing all over Virginia. Wherever their missing man was holding his latest victim, they knew he wasn’t too far away.

Emily was pacing in the hall. “We have to find something to stop him. I don’t know if maybe he’s finally had the mental break he’d always worried about or…”

Dave put his hands up. “As much as it hurts to say it, he’s too organized for that to be what this is. He’s been plotting and planning this for ages. Months at least, maybe years. He may have come up with it in prison for all we know.”

“But why didn’t he say something!”

He sighed. “By the look of this, he felt we all abandoned him. He’s working down his list and getting even with everyone who abandoned him somehow.” He frowned and thought over the case. They’d all been watching the video feed as it had come and gone for over a day now. He’d leaned in close when Spencer had forced the woman the still didn’t know the identity of to write out her apology as he dictated it. It had been long and rambling and very telling about the man’s state of mind.

“This is bad but…” She stopped and turned on her heel. “This doesn’t feel like a finale. He’s still hiding, we know he told the victim his name is Mike, but is that the only name he’s using? And if it is, then Mike what?”

“I think the name Mike must be important to him.” He led the way to the conference room where the rest of the team were spread out. “We need all the Mike’s related to Reid’s entire past. Mike, Michael, check everything. I’ll see if we can’t borrow more analysts from other departments.”

==

Tara was the one to ask. They had been searching all morning for the mysterious Mike or Michael without much luck. “Wasn’t Agent Hotchner’s middle name Michael?”

Everyone stopped and looked up at her in silence.

Emily slumped back in her chair. “That’s it. The finale.”

“What’s it?” Luke asked.

She met the eyes of each person in the room, smiling gently at JJ and Rossi who’d been on the team so much longer than the others. “Reid and Hotch were a couple.”

“When?” JJ’s jaw was dropped open.

“As best as I knew, for a few years. I’m assuming when Hotch went into WitSec, he wasn’t given a chance to say goodbye. Or even worse, he may have only been able to leave a letter.”

“How’s that worse?” Tara leaned forward. “Wouldn’t a litter at least be something?”

Dave stood and moved to point to two of the pictures. “These two men? Left Reid’s life with only a letter.”

“So, what? You think the finale has something to do with Hotch?” Luke asked.

Emily turned at met Dave’s eyes a moment. “I think Hotch may  _ be _ the finale. We need to locate him and Jack. And I don’t think we have much time.”


	9. Jack

Jack recognized the lanky shadow leaning against a tree on the edge of the soccer field almost immediately. With an excited shriek, he darts across the open area and jumped into the shadow’s arms.

Donna Winters frowned and followed the boy who’d been left in her care for the day. It was clear her son’s friend knew the man, but his father hadn’t mentioned anything about another person collecting Jack. “Hello.” She greeted when she got close. “And Jack, who is this?”

Jack bounced on his feet. “This is Spencer, he’s a good friend of my dad’s from before we moved.”

“Well. Aaron will be here soon if you’re looking for him.” She looked him over. He didn’t look threatening, but you could never be sure.

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Spencer gave her a disarming smile. “I’m just here to take him home.”

“My dad’s known him since before I was a baby. He’s watched me before and he watched Henry a lot!” Jack tugged at the man’s hand. “Can we get ice cream like before?”

“I’m not sure we have time, Jack. Maybe another day. We have to get you home.”

Donna chewed her lip. Something inside her told her to wait until Aaron arrived, but Jack seemed so happy to see him, clearly knew him well. “Okay. Make sure to tell your dad he forgot to let me know about the switch. Okay?”

“Okay!” Jack took off to collect his bags. Once in the car, the boy turned to the driver. “Are we really just going straight home?”

“Not yet, Jack. I have something special to show you first.”

==

Aaron climbed out of his car already scanning the park for his son. It was a latent effect of having been an FBI agent, scanning the area for hidden dangers. He still hadn’t spotted Jack by the time he got to Donna. “Hello.” He saw the surprise in her eyes as she turned around.

“Aaron! I wasn’t expecting you!”

That confused him. “I came to get Jack.”

“But…He was picked up a while ago. He knew the man, went running to greet him from across the field.”

His chest clenched. Something felt wrong. “Did you get a name?”

She nodded. “Jack called him Spencer. He said he worked with you at another job. He acted like you knew he was picking him up.”

Aaron nodded quietly. Spencer had come and gotten Jack. Something about that worried him more than he expected it to. “Thank you.” He turned back toward his car.

“He said he had to take him straight home.” She called after him.

“What?” The former agent turned around.

“Jack asked him about going for ice cream, like before, and Spencer said they didn’t have time but maybe later. That he had to get him straight home.” She offered an apologetic smile. “Maybe they’re at home?”

“They must be.” He nodded and left.

==

The drive had taken a couple hours. Jack stared out the window at the white house hidden behind large bushes, overgrown and unkempt. “Who lives here?”

“No one now. But your parents used to, and then you when you were little.”

Jack’s gut was suddenly telling him this was bad. Very bad. “I lived here when I was little?”

Spencer nodded and climbed out of the parked car. “It’s empty now. Come on.” He made sure the boy was following him before he opened the front door. The walls and floors had long ago been repaired and replaced. There were no signs anymore of what had happened in this place. The images from that day though were still fresh in Spencer’s mind. He wasn’t able to forget. It was a curse of his mind.

Jack looked around the empty rooms and fragments of memories started to come back to him. Stopping in the living room he looked up at Spencer. “This is where George came. This is where he killed my mom.” He watched Spencer nod. “Why would you bring me here?”

“He wanted to kill your dad too. And he would have succeeded except he didn’t plan for just how angry your dad would be after months of being tormented. Your dad should have died here that day. When we came through the door, we knew it was a real possibility.”

He swallowed. “So why are we here now?”

“Your dad has done some horrible things with his life since being allowed to live. He didn’t use his time wisely.”

“The FBI admitted they were wrong! He didn’t do anything bad!”

Spencer shook his head sadly. “The things he’s done aren’t the kinds of things the FBI talks about. But he was given a gift, getting to have these extra years with you. But now they have to be taken away again.”

“Taken away?”

“Yes, Jack. Your father doesn’t deserve to be your father anymore. He hurts the ones he loves. He’ll hurt you more than he already has if he gets the chance.” He took the boy’s arm and started to lead him to a chair, the only piece of furniture in the room. “You’re going to sit here. You have two days.”


	10. Aaron

His house was empty. The basement, attic, backyard. His son and the man who’d taken him were nowhere to be found. He was about to be sick. Dialing a number from memory, Aaron waited for the call to connect.

“Hello.” The voice was too low. And too male.

“Shit.” Had the team been reorganized while he’d been gone? “I was trying to reach technical analyst Penelope Garcia.”

“Oh!” The voice responded. “You called the right number, she’s had to take some time off.”

“When will she be back?” His anxiety was skyrocketing.

“Umm, it’s open ended.” The voice finally asked. “Who is this?”

“I’m Aaron Hotchner, I was…” He was cut off by the man’s urgent chatter.

“Hotch! Hold on let me get Agent Prentiss or Rossi or somebody. Whatever you do, don’t hang up!”

Hotch could hear the hard sound of the phone being placed on the desk, not on hold. The only reason to do that was if the man wanted to be absolutely sure the call wouldn’t be dropped. There were several minutes of silence and then the sound of distant voices before someone lifted up the handset.

“Hotch! It’s so good to hear from you! We think you’re in danger! Spencer left the Bureau almost two years ago and over the last few months has been killing surrogates for people in his life including much of the team. We haven’t been able to figure out where he’s been living but we do know he’s using the alias Mike.” Emily paused for a breath. “You and Jack need to find a way here as soon as possible.”

“We can’t.” His voice was tight.

“Why not?” Dave asked from further away.

“Spencer has Jack.”

The room was silent a moment before many voices, some he didn’t recognize, started talking at once. Finally, the phone was passed around and Dave was speaking directly into his ear. “What do you know?”

“He picked up Jack from soccer practice and said he was taking him home. But he’s not here. The woman said Jack asked about going for ice cream, but that Spencer said they didn’t have time and maybe later. He said they had to get right home.”

“And they’re not at the house?”

“No.” Aaron turned in place like they might be hidden somewhere right there, like a perverse game of hide and seek. He could hear Dave talking again, but it wasn’t registering. This was all like some sick game of hide and seek. And Spencer was taking him home. “I’ve got to go.” Ignoring Dave’s shouts, he disconnected the call and took off for his car.

==

Dave stared at the phone. “Shit.”

“What?” Emily was on high alert.

“Spencer told the woman that he had to get Jack right home, but Aaron’s there now and he’s not there.”

==

Aaron slammed his car into park and shot to the door. This time he wasn’t in a suit and he wasn’t armed. But it didn’t lessen the adrenaline pumping through his body at all. As soon as he as in the door, he heard a voice speak.

“Shut and lock it or I shoot him in the gut.”

Aaron complied. “What’s this about Spencer? Why are we here?”

“Come into the living room. We need to talk.”

Most of the house was dim. There were curtains over windows to block out much of the sunlight. The living room though was bright and he spotted his son, bound and gagged in a chair. “Fight me, Aaron and my first shot will be at him. Now, come sit here against the wall.” When the large man complied, Spencer used zip cuffs to bind his wrists and ankles. “If you cooperate, I promise not to hurt Jack. But like I told your son this morning, he only has two days. Don’t make it less for him.”

Aaron’s chest hurt looking from his son to his former lover. “I’m sorry, Spencer. So sorry.”

“You left me!” He screamed. “You left! And I didn’t even get a note! Nothing! I. Was. In. Jail. And you didn’t come to help me!”

“What?” Spencer had been in jail and no one had told him?

“Why were you in jail? Why didn’t the Bureau help you?”

Spencer came in close so they were almost nose to nose. “I was arrested for murder. In Mexico. And since I didn’t use my Bureau passport or report my trip first, they treated me as a civilian. And as such, I get to enjoy the comforts of general population. Do you know what a Fed goes through in Gen Pop?”

He swallowed. “No. I didn’t know that happened to you.” He wished he’d known. He would have given up his protection to save Reid. “What’s going to happen?”

“What?”

“You said two days. So, what is going to happen between now and tomorrow night?”

A grin slowly spread across Spencer’s face. “It’s nice to finally have someone so smart. The others, they didn’t seem to understand and one, she just laid there and whimpered. It was so unsatisfying.”

“Who did you kill?”

An eyebrow arched. “I didn’t want caught right away, so I had to use replacements. But I did my research after I went back to the BAU and had a plan for when I walked away. So, I killed my father and then a professor that had a thing for prepubescent boys and the golden ticket against prosecution.” Reid started to pace. “Then I killed Gideon and other members of the team. But you. You’re special. I knew I would have to take you, lead you to me.”

“I talked to Emily and Dave, they know you took Jack.”

Spencer didn’t seem worried. “I figured by now they knew it was me, even with the alias. I left Rossi a gift at his murder and then Garcia.” He chuckled. “I made her watch hers.”

“What did you do?” Aaron was getting the feeling none of it was good. There was too much planning involved, too much knowledge of good and bad murders. If Spencer had gotten the team’s attention it was because he’d wanted it.

“Run of the mill torture. You know, one got left in the desert, another I fed to some birds, it changed with each one. But the letters and the drugs, those changed.” He moved to the side of the room and pulled out a syringe. “Have you even experienced heroin?”

“No.” Aaron watched as Spencer approached Jack and pulled up his sleeve.

“I bet Jack never has either. But there’s no time like the present to start.” He pressed the needle into Jack’s skin.

“Wait! Give it to me instead.” He begged. “Please. Give it to me. Not Jack.”

“Are you sure? It makes you willing to do all sorts of things.”

“Yes. Please. I want it.” He would give anything to not see his son die of an overdose.

“As you wish.” Spencer crossed the room and found a vein before inserting the needle. “Enjoy the ride.”

==

Jack had spent the entire afternoon watching his dad fade in and out as he rode out the drugs. He’d sagged down against the wall once the plunger had been pressed, an odd relaxed look on his face. Every once in a while, his dad’s body would go stiff and jerk for a few minutes and then sag back down. Spencer wasn’t anywhere that he could see as he watched. He was scared, he didn’t understand what his dad had been given. Was it killing him?

Spencer wandered in as the shadows were getting longer, a bowl of something in his hand. He totally ignored Jack for the time being, instead kneeling beside Aaron. “It didn’t have to be this way you know. You could have done everything the right way and none of this would have happened.” He gripped Aaron’s chin hard, really touching him for the first time all day. “How are you doing there? Ready for some more?”

“I need Jack, don’t hurt Jack.” Hotch’s eyes were unfocused. What he was seeing wasn’t really there. “I’ll do anything as long as you don’t hurt him.”

“Anything?”

“Yes. Please. Hurt me. Not him.”

“Okay.”

==

They had finally gotten the Marshall’s to share where the Hotchner’s had been staying since they’d been under protection, surprised to learn it was right there in Virginia the whole time. Half of the team had driven out to their home to search it as well as speak to the woman who’d actually seen and talked to Spencer while the others stayed at Quantico to try and figure out who Spencer was now.

==

It was late. Spencer checked his watch and then smiled at his handiwork. Since Hotch had begged him to hurt him, Spencer had been delighted to oblige. From the kitchen, he’d brought out a knife and cut away all of his clothes, leaving him bare and exposed on a pile of rags. Jack was dozing in small bursts, snapping awake after a few minutes. He wasn’t really worried about the boy, Jack had simply been an easy means to manipulate Hotch and now was unnecessary. But knowing that the boy was watching what was happening to her father, maybe that wasn’t so bad.

Using his knowledge of anatomy, Spencer started at Hotch’s feet and pressed into the skin until blood dripped out. Up one leg and then the other, across his abdomen making sure to avoid the old scar tissue. He didn’t want Aaron to bleed out just yet, it was just getting fun.

Pulling away, he saw his hands covered in Hotch’s blood. Pulling a face, he looked around the room before settling on a horrible idea. Stalking toward Jack, he wiped his hands over his face and shirt, coating the boy in his father’s blood. If he was lucky, the next time Aaron roused, he’d thing his son was hurt. That reaction would be just delightful.

==

Aaron blinked in the morning light. Looking down at himself, he was horrified at what he saw. He was covered in shallow cuts and dried blood and there were track marks on his arm that he didn’t remember getting. Looking up at his son, he was horrified to see him also covered in blood. “Jack?” Tears bubbled up unrestrained. “Jack! Please! Please don’t be hurt. Please don’t be dead. Jack!”

After a moment, the boy’s eyes blinked open and focused on his dad. He tried to shake his head to communicate that he wasn’t hurt.

“Spencer! Spencer, dammit!” He was angry. Beyond angry. “Come face me!”

Spencer sauntered out. “Yes?”

“I said not to hurt him!”

“That? Oh, he’s not hurt. That’s your blood.” He pulled out the syringe. “And he’ll get to watch you lay here twitching and high today, unable to move to relieve yourself still so the puddle soaking your clothes will only increase. Do you really think the team will find you in time?”

“You have to know you won’t get away with this.”

“Oh, I know. I never intended to. Once I’m sure you’re dead, I’ll die too.”

==

They’d all worked around the clock to come up with a viable lead. If Spencer was sticking to his schedule, the Hotchner’s had less than twelve hours left before they died. A sickening thought crossed Emily’s mind. Running into Garcia’s office, she pressed on the temporary analyst’s shoulder, she ordered him. “Look up the owner history for an address in Alexandria, Virginia. Seven-twenty-eight Lincoln Avenue.”

Stuart typed into the computer and searched. After several long minutes he was the information. “How far back? About ten years ago it was owned by Aaron and Haley Hotch… This is the Hotchner house? The one where his wife was killed?”

“Yes. Now, continue.” Dave, who had followed on Emily’s heels, snapped.

Stu ducked his head. “It was owned for two years by a David and Mildred Ashton and then it got purchased buy a company and has been owned by them ever since.”

“Who owns the company?” Rossi leaned next to his ear, voice sharp.

The analyst typed as fast as he could. Business records in Virginia either were a cakewalk to find or next to impossible. “It has had two owners. Two years ago, it had a change of designated person filed. For the past two years the company has been owned by a Mike Ross. Before that it was… No, this can’t be right.”

“What?” Emily was over his other shoulder now.

“The company was started by a Spencer Reid.”

“Spencer has owned that house all this time?” Dave was confused about the motive of buying that house specifically.

“Nearly seven years by the looks of it.”

They were already heading out the door. “Find everything you can on anyone named Mike Ross. As far back as the day Reid was released from prison.” Emily called.

“Got it!” Stuart called back.

==

JJ, Emily, and Dave were the first ones to the house. The sight of a sedan parked haphazardly across the drive made them all shudder. This couldn’t be like before. Silently, they all moved around the house checking for easy ways in. The couldn’t hear any sounds from the occupants and that worried them.

Finally Dave picked the lock on the front door and they all rushed in, staying quiet. A familiar click made them all freeze.

“Walk to the living room, you remember where it is?”

The trio carefully made their way in, horrified by the sight of Jack bound and bloody and Aaron naked and carved up.

“Don’t worry, for now he’s not dead, just high. I’ll kill him later.”

“Do you really think we’ll give you the chance?” JJ asked. “Why did you do this, Spence? Why did you kill all these people? Why were you killing us?”

“You all left me in prison! Everyone who could have stopped it just went on with their lives and no one bothered to worry about little ol’ Spencer!” He paced closer to Aaron. “I wanted to die in there! But then I got out. And I realized that if I’m going to die, I’m going to take out everyone who ever screwed me one way or another first. And some people really liked screwing me, isn’t that right Aaron?” He leaned down and yanked his head up. The man groaned. “Let’s just screw Spencer and then just throw him away.”

“Let him go, Reid.” Emily demanded.

“Not a chance. You know, he’s had an awful lot of heroin and those cuts have been bleeding for hours. It’s really only a matter of time.”

“Come on, Spencer.” Dave tried. “Is this really what you want to happen?”

Spencer’s smirk gave them all chills as he stood. “No, but this is.” Aiming the gun down to Aaron’s chest, he pulled the trigger and time seemed to stand still.

==

The team was sitting at a table in Rossi’s back yard. Jessica was with them even though Jack was still admitted in the hospital in the pediatric psychiatric ward. The doctor had agreed to allow him out for the day to attend his dad’s funeral. The rest of the team had just come back from Spencer’s funeral earlier. It had been a closed casket service after the three agents had continued firing until he was on the floor.

Stuart had found the records on Mike Ross, Spencer’s alias and had filled them in on where he’d registered for school and had a house. His house had been like walking in on a history of his anger and planning. No one could believe they had missed all of the signs.

Garcia had decided she simply couldn’t come back to work after watching the woman getting electrocuted over and over dressed as her. Meant to be her. Even knowing Spencer was dead and not out there somewhere, she couldn’t face coming back.

None of them would recover from this. But they would hold to one another to stay strong.

**Author's Note:**

> Once I have sufficiently recovered and my other stories are finished being written, there is a plan for a sequel. No idea when, but it's already begging to be written.


End file.
